I’m editing book 2 in my shape-shifting dragon series, Bridges Burned. Scenes are being cut and changed. I am drinking wine, eating chocolate, and hugging my shitzu. Here is a scene that won’t make the final cut.

Bryn sipped her lukewarm coffee and grimaced. Yuck. She could ask for a refill, but doing anything that required her to stay at her grandparent’s estate and endure this awkward brunch one moment longer was unthinkable. All she wanted to do was go back to school.
And not dragon school, but her human school, back before flames had shot out of her mouth when she’d come into her dragon powers on her sixteenth birthday. Back before she’d been uprooted from her normal apartment and sent to super-secret-shape-shifting dragon school where, thanks to her mixed breed and forbidden heritage, she’d never fit in. Back to when no one tried to poison her. Back to when the archaic Dragon Directorate hadn’t ruled every aspect of her life.
Dare to dream. Now that they’d found her, the Directorate wouldn’t allow her to leave—ever. She might mess up, accidentally use her new powers, and expose dragon society to the world. So, she was stuck.
It’s not like her new life was all bad. Flying was awesome. The freedom, the thrill of it was better than the fastest roller coaster she’d ever been on. Meeting her grandparents, being acknowledged by them…that was good, and confusing and scary all at the same time. And she had gained a bit of ground with them, but their ginormous mansion and their upper class Blue dragon ways were grating on her nerves. Or maybe it was the fact that someone had tried to kill her…again. Either way, she glared across the table at her classmate Jaxon—son of the evil-asshat Ferrin Westgate, head of the Directorate and the man her mother had jilted—as he used perfect manners to finish his French toast, one small bite at a time. She willed him to hurry the hell up.